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exception to my coming here, Napier,’ said Lord Salisbury. ‘I’ve not much patience with his democratic notions, but he knows that well enough. I think he trusts me to do the best I can for Britain, whether in or out of office. He’s called an emergency meeting with the Home Secretary for later this afternoon over this damnable business of Sir John Courteline’s murder. London’s up in arms. Meanwhile, you and I can have a discreet chat, without treading on anyone’s toes. So tell me more about Afghanistan . I thought I’d resolved that business once and for all in ’85.’
    Lord Salisbury, a very tall, heavily built man, bald but bearded, had rather gingerly lowered himself into an upright chair on entering Napier’s first-floor room in the Foreign Office. He regarded the under-secretary with melancholy eyes set deep under beetling brows. His eyes never quite focused, because he was extremely short sighted; it was said that vanity forbade his wearing spectacles in public.
    ‘Well, sir,’ said Napier, ‘you’ll appreciate that the Amir, Abd-ur -Rahman, remains loyal to the British Government, and is content that we direct his foreign policy—’
    ‘I appreciate that the Amir is a shrewd man, Napier, who has the knack of playing his cards right, if rather too close to his chest for comfort. If Russia’s contemplating mischief in the area, it’s just possible that Abd-ur-Rahman may pretend to be deaf. But go on, Napier, I’m setting the cart before the horse.’
    ‘I’ve received intelligence from one of our people in Baluchistan, a man called Abu Daria, that Russia had been covertly arming some of the northern Afghan tribes. That in itself is alarming, but another of our agents, a man who works for the railway in Petrovosk, on the shore of theCaspian Sea, tells us that a company of ostensibly civilian engineers – Russians, I mean – have been seen in the vicinity of Meshed.’
    Lord Salisbury sat up in his chair, and looked at Napier with renewed interest. He stroked his luxuriant beard thoughtfully .
    ‘Ah! Meshed. Now I can see a picture emerging…. I suppose these informants of yours are trustworthy? Could anyone have tampered with their despatches?’
    ‘They both communicated by cable, sir. Abu Daria linked up with the other man, Piotr Casimir, at Petrovosk, and they sent a joint cable from the telegraph office there.’
    ‘Hm…. Well, Meshed is one of the Russians’ classic lines of advance towards India, so if there’s anything in what your couriers have told you, then the Tsar and his advisers may be contemplating another attempt to overturn the Raj. In which case, Napier, I should say that His Imperial Majesty has taken leave of his senses. Since last year he’s turned his attentions to China. He’s borrowing French money to build a trans-Siberian railway. But Meshed…. Well, it makes one think.’
    ‘What would you advise, sir? Obviously, I will be ruled by whatever Lord Rosebery, the present Foreign Secretary, recommends , but I do have a certain standing in the matter of foreign affairs.’
    ‘Well, you and I have worked closely for a good few years, Napier, and by the look of things in the country at the moment, we may find ourselves in harness again before very long. Mr Gladstone’ – Salisbury permitted himself a rather mischievous smile – ‘Mr Gladstone is throwing all his energy into this Home Rule for Ireland business, and for a man in his eighties he’s putting up a remarkable show. But the country’s not with him, and that will see him out of office in a year’s time. And this business of Courteline today will unsettle the voting masses. I don’t hold any kind of brief for so-called “public opinion”, but Gladstone does, and he’ll bow to the inevitable when it happens.’
    ‘And about Afghanistan, sir?’
    ‘Oh, yes. Sorry, Napier, I was looking a bit too eagerly beyond the present. I don’t like the sound of this at all. Not one bit. As you know, I’m